You'll Never Be Alone
by Angelical devil
Summary: Suicidal!dean, cancer!sam. Future fic, Retired boys. Sam has cancer but dean won't let him go alone. First fic so please be nice.


A/n this is my first try so please be nice.

Sam ran his fingers through his graying hair and pushed himself out of his chair. It took far too much effort; the side effects of growing old. He grunted and groaned as his bones creaked, and his weak muscles had to be forced to cooperate. Looking over at Dean, he sighed softly. It wouldn't be long before Sam wouldn't even be able to get out of bed. He had decided that it would be best to not tell dean about his test results. It wasn't as if they could change much anyway. Smiling softly, he asked, "Since I'm up, do you want something?"

Dean glanced up from the book he was reading. "A beer would be good." They were both growing older, even his brother's light hair was starting to go gray around his temples and crown. He watched sam go into the kitchen with what looked like a bit of difficulty, but that could be put down as old injuries acting up. He had his fair share of days where his joints ached, so it wasn't too surprising, really.

Sam fumbled around in the fridge. He brought two beers out and put them on the counter, and leaned on it with both hands, exhaling shakily. His hip hurt, and it was only going to get worse. Even the strong medications the doctor had prescribed for him weren't working. Of course, that was to be expected when your body was betraying you, and tearing itself apart.

Not hearing Sam moving around made Dean get up and shuffle into the kitchen to stand behind his partner. He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, butting heads gently. "Penny for your thoughts?" He frowned, watching him for a moment before checking his most recent injury as a means of appearing busy so as not to corner Sam if he didn't feel like talking. Dean had learned by now trying to get Sam to talk when he didn't want to was a lot like poking a hungry bear.

Sam straightened up and turned to look at Dean. "Hmm? Oh, I'm just a bit tired." He said, voice entirely neutral now, and not showing any of the pain which was racking his body. He took a few steps toward Dean, and looked at what his partner was looking at, "How's the cuts? " He inquired, as means to change the topic.

Dean made a noise in the back of his throat, and started rewrapping his arm. "Well enough. They'll probably scare but..." Shrugging He got up, bustling around the kitchen and grabbing his beer. Clearly Sam was miles away. He turned to smile at his partner, putting a hand over his, "beer and crap daytime tv?"

Sam blinked hard and focused on Dean again. He managed a smile for his brother, "Sounds lovely." He said, squeezing Dean's hand, before he hobbled over to the counter and grabbed his beer. "I'm not sure what's on right now, but we can always rent a DVD in if there's-" Sam suddenly had to lean on the counter, squeezing his eyes shut and biting back a groan. After a moment, he was able to breathe again and gripped his bottle tightly, "-if there's nothing else on." He finished, not looking at Dean as he shuffled back toward the sitting room.

Smiling at the return of the affection, grabbing his beer and going into the sitting room. He had gone over to look at their dvd collection when Sam's words stopped abruptly and Dean looked over in concern. His thoughts immediately went to possible reasons sam would've have stopped, those sharp green eyes looked over his brother quickly, analyzing. Something was definitely wrong. It wasn't a heart attack, there were no other symptoms. What was it? "Perhaps we should get you to ER." Five years ago, he wouldn't have bothered suggesting it, but they were older now- there were more health risks.

"I'm fine." Sam insisted, shaking his head and taking a seat, wincing. Going to the ER would only mean more money, pain, and inconvenience, and there was nothing they could really do for him, anyway. "Find anything you want to watch?" He asked, looking up at Dean and sipping at his beer, "We haven't watched any of the old Bond films for ages. Or perhaps we could watch a fantasy film, like the third part of The Hobbit?" Sam kept up with the suggestions, trying to keep Dean's mind occupied. "You pick."

Dean kept his eyes on Sam stubbornly, but conceded by looking back to their collection with little attention. He settled on one of their favorite movies, they had watched it on their one year anniversary and it held rather a bit of sentimental value. Putting it in the DVD player, he took a seat next to Sam, pulling a blanket around them and picked up his bottle. His attention wasn't on the film very often, mostly just watching Sam out of the corner of his eye.

Sam smiled when he saw the opening credits and rested his head on Dean's shoulder, just as he did when they were younger. He watched the film, but it was hard to pay attention when something just didn't feel right in his body. It was different then what he had recently been experiencing, but Sam couldn't explain it. About halfway through the film, he sat up a little, and said quietly, "I...I need to go to bed. I'm sorry. You can still watch this, if you want." He cast aside his part of the blanket, and slowly, shakily stood. This was too soon, wasn't it? He couldn't be going downhill this quickly. It shouldn't be possible. The worst feeling, Sam deciding, is knowing that your life was ending soon, and that nothing can be done to stop it. Leaning down, he kissed Dean on the forehead. "I'll see you soon, love." He said quietly, before he headed down the hallway to their room.

Dean kept a hand on Sam's knee while they watched, his brow creasing in worry and confusion when his partner got up and left. He wasn't in the mood for watching the rest of the film after Sam had left, though he hadn't been paying too much attention anyway. He didn't move from his position for a long time, staring blankly into the coffee table in thought. He only moved when his back twinged in agony and he had to stand up to rub it out. Looking blearily at the clock, the time read 3:27am and he shook his head and headed to where Sam lay. Upon seeing Sam, he didn't want to disturb whatever sleep he was getting, so he reluctantly went back to the couch and stretched out resigning himself to a backache in the morning. How the hell had he continually done that when he was younger?

Sam awoke only a few hours later, his sleep having been punctuated with frequently waking up from the pain, and feeling as if his heart wasn't cooperating as it should. Finally, at around 6:45am, he rolled out of bed, and looked over, seeing that Dean wasn't in the bed with him, he stood, with much pain, and headed, down the hallway, and into the living room. He spotted Dean on the sofa, and shuffled over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Love? Are you alright? Why didn't you come to bed last night?" He said softly, gently shaking him. "Do you want breakfast?"

Dean roused at the hand on his shoulder, looking about in confusion. Where was he again? Oh, right, he'd slept on the sofa. He sat up and gave a nod, rubbing idly at his back. "Didn't want to wake you, Sammy." His face scrunched in fatigue as he made to stand up, his tired bones cracking as they shifted into place correctly. "I'll get it. Eggs and toast alright?" He pulled his discarded shirt on, ushering his brother to sit down before seeing to breakfast himself. He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and got out a skillet and some eggs.

Sam resisted at first, but then sat down at the kitchen table. "I have cancer." He blurted out, before he could stop himself. Why had he done that? Why did it just slip out, as if he were commenting on a shirt, or talking about the weather, or their plans for the day. Sam sighed and bit his lip, immediately following it with, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to worry you, and there isn't anything that can be done about it anyway, so I thought-I thought..." He couldn't finish, and instead folded his hands on the table, studying the numerous wrinkles and age spots. He couldn't look Dean in the eye, not now.

Dean had been thankful that he hadn't been holding anything more than a glass, because it had slipped from his grasp and shattered at his feet. O-oh, so that explained it then. Terminal, most likely. He looked at Sam sadly, stepping around the broken glass to get to him. It felt like someone had taken hold of his heart and squeezed. Not again.. He placed his own shaking hand over Sam's, beseeching him to look at him. "H-how long?" When had his voice gotten so shaky? It felt like his world was caving in around him again and he needed answers.

Sam grasped Dean's hand, and stared at it, running his other hand slowly along it, feeling its roughness. He blinked hard several times, before he managed to look up at Dean, and said quietly, "At this point, it's...anytime. I could go on for a few weeks, or I could go to bed tonight and not wake up. The doctors aren't sure." He exhaled shakily, and brought Dean's hand to his lips, kissing it softly. He rested his forehead against Dean's hand, willing himself not to cry. He had to be strong, for Dean, "So if there's...if there's anything you want to do together, we...we should do it soon." He said softly, looking up at his brother. The man looked positively terrified, and it broke His heart.

Remembering life without Sam made a lump rise into his throat, making it hard to breathe. He knew he couldn't do it over- refused to do it. If it was Sam's time to go, it was his as well. He would be lost without in all aspects of his life. Any moment could be their last? Dean's mind was racing with all the things they still had yet to do and wouldn't accomplish. He ran a shaky hand over his face and was startled out of his thoughts when something hit his hand. Looking down on it, he realized it was a tear from his own face. "I..whatever you want to do, it will be done." Looking at Sam's familiar face and knowing he wasn't going to wake up to it for much longer dean didn't know what to say.

Sam shakily stood, and looked down at Dean, before he slowly pulled his lover into a hug, burying his face in the man's shirt. "I just want you. I want you to be with me. Please, just don't leave me." He said, voice breaking as he clutched Dean tighter. Sam could feel someone trembling now, and wasn't sure if it was him or Dean. All Sam could only think of how scared he was. He would soon be taking a journey that would have to be done alone, into one place or the other. He didnt know which was worse. Worse of all though, he would be leaving Dean behind. Poor Dean had gone through this before and he'd been lost, Sam knew this. There had to be some way to help him. "De, you need to find someone else to stay with you, when...when I'm gone. You can't be alone. Maybe Lisa?" He sniffed loudly and buried his face more into dean's shirt.

Dean clung onto Sam like a lifeline, face nestled into his partner's shoulder as he cried in earnest. He was certain he'd never been this distraught before- not even his Dads death had hit him quite this hard. Of course, you couldn't be with someone for more than sixty years without a bit of attachment. Pulling away from Sam, he put his brothers face between his hands, begging Sam to look at him quietly before smiling sadly. "I'm with you through the end this time, Sammy. You're not going anywhere that I can't follow." No one could replace his Sam- not ever. And if he had to follow him to death, then that was the obvious choice. The only thing he had left to lose was sitting right in front of him. Nothing else mattered.

Sam's face turned sour at both Dean's tearful expression, and his comment. Sam himself was fighting back tears that brimmed in his eyes, and he reached forward, wiping away the tears on one of Dean's cheeks, "No, love, you mustn't. There's so much you can do. What about helping Sheriff mills? She's always got things she needs. Or...or..." Sam succumbed to his own tears, and closed his eyes, trying to compose himself as the streams went down his cheeks. He was feeling weak. It couldn't be tonight. It just couldn't. He had to at least make it through the day, for Dean's sake. "We know what's waiting on the other side. You shouldn't have to step into...into that blackness. Not while you still have time left." He said quietly, looking down at Dean.

"Sam... i Love you. You are all I have left, and I'm not going to let you be alone. I made a promise, didn't I?" He had, a long time ago. When he had first been handed Sam and told to run and not to look back. Then again when they got back together after the 'standford days.' "I don't want to go through life without you. If I don't go with you, I know I will not be far behind." Leaning forward, Dean pressed a kiss to Sam's lips, trying to make him understand.

Sam kissed him back, tasting the saltiness of their mixed tears on his lips. He pulled close to Dean and kissed him for a long time, before he pulled away. Clinging to Dean, he exhaled shakily. He didn't feel as if he could stand anymore. "C-can we go sit in the sitting room? Or...or I could sit back down while you make breakfast. I just...I need to sit." He said quietly, pulling away from dean, but taking a hold of his hand again. "Should we...should I write a note? For-for whoever finds us? Or should I call someone?" He asked, voice small.

Dean shook his head, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist. "Lets..Can we go back to bed, Sammy? P-please?" God, he just wanted one more night with his brother and he would pray to whoever he needed in order for that to happen. He would help Sam get to wherever he wanted to go, but he wasn't going to leave him for one minute. Dean licked his lips which were suddenly far too dry, trying to come up with a correct answer. "I could..call Garth. Or write a note for Jody." Since Jody had retired, shed taken to watching over them. even becoming somewhat like a mom to the pair of them.

"Bed sounds good." Sam said softly, putting his arm around Dean's back, and started walking in the direction of their bedroom. "Garth would...she would understand, and Jory might not stop by for days." He swallowed hard, and drew in a rather shallow breath. "De, I'm scared." Sam's voice was quiet, he wasn't even sure if Dean heard him. Sam just held close to Dean, and walked with him. "Do you need anything?."

Dean got them both to bed, and oh god his heart was breaking in two the more Sam struggled. Fixing the blankets around his brother, he bent and pressed his lips to his before running a hand through his short graying hair. "Don't go without me Sammy...I'll be right back." He gave Sam's hand a squeeze before going into the bathroom and raiding the medicine cabinet, finding a bottle of sleeping pills that he'd recently been prescribed. Taking the bottle and a glass of water back to the bedroom, he crawled in next to Sam, putting his head on his shoulder, fingers tracing over an old gunshot wound.

Sam swallowed thickly, eyeing the pills. "Is that how...how you're going to..." He couldn't finish his sentence as his voice choked a little. He brought a hand to Dean's on his shoulder, and squeezed it tightly, his eyes watering again. He ran his finger over Dean's tattoo, and smiled softly, "Happiest day of my life." He murmured. He let out a sigh, finding it harder to breathe. It was as if, now that his secret was out, his body was alright with giving up. Sam was still holding on, though. He would fight as long as he could.

Dean hummed, smiling as he watched Sam's fingers trace over the tattoo of his own. "It may have been the happiest day of your life, but it was the beginning of mine."

Nodding, Dean reached over for them, dumping the remainder of the bottle into his hand. One pill had enough power to knock him out for twelve hours. Ten would surely be enough to kill him..He downed them without a second thought, chasing the chalky mouthful with the glass of water and resuming his position pillowed on Sam's shoulder. "It was raining then. We were caught in a downpour on our way to the motel. I..couldn't take my eyes off of you." He paused, wetting his lips as he screwed his eyes shut before looking up at his lover. "My biggest regret is still being unable to adopt. You would have been the best father."

Sam watched as Dean took the pills, instinctively wanting to reach out and stop him, but Sam knew the reasoning. He swallowed hard, "And so would you." He replied, "You would have taught our children football, and shooting, and observing instead of just seeing." He drew in a shaky breath. "I remember the rain. And then, afterwards, when we had that stupid fight about whether or not to look for a new hunt right away?" He let out a throaty chuckle, which was followed by a series of coughs. "Then we made it up later." He remembered, reaching over and stroking Dean's cheek. It took all of his effort, because his limbs felt extremely heavy. "And then we didn't have any arguments the rest of the month." He shivered a little, even though he wasn't cold. Sam stared up at the ceiling, wondering how long it would be. Not long, surely, but if Dean went before he did...well, at least dean wouldn't have to watch him go. He clung to His brother a little tighter, but his grip was weakening by the minute.

His eyelids were getting difficult to lift, Dean was fighting to keep them open. While he still could, he sent a text to Jody that simply read 'Send coroner. Bobby's- DMW'. He laughed tiredly, gripping the material under his arthritic fingers. "I remember. The make-up sex was always the best after I'd done something stupid." A tear ran down his eye, but the smile never left his face. "Sometimes I would intentionally pick a fight so we would make-up later. I still don't know whether you knew or not.." He let his eyes shut and he could feel himself drifting to sleep. "I love you, Sammy...you have been astounding. I pray that I stay with you in the darkness." His words were slurred and his grip relaxed. He took a great sigh before letting himself fall to sleep.

Sam smiled when Dean mentioned that, "Oh, I knew. I figured it out." He mumbled, and moved his eyes over to Dean as he watched him type out the message to . When Dean's hand relaxed in his, he panicked, "Dean? De?" He asked, looking down at him, for he couldn't move. When he realized what had happened, that Dean was now sleeping, and would soon slip away, Sam lay there and cried silent tears. "I love you." He told him softly, "You mean everything to me. I can't thank you enough. You're... Brilliant." He drew in a shallow breath, and closed his eyes, knowing it wouldn't be long now. With his last strength, he squeezed Dean's hand tightly, and drifted off into the unknown.


End file.
